


we're burning down

by thanatopis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6375196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanatopis/pseuds/thanatopis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not really about what Iwaizumi wants, but what Kyoutani needs from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're burning down

Iwaizumi pretends he doesn’t notice Kyoutani glaring at him half a court yard away. The kid thinks he’s being subtle about it, failing miserably at giving what Iwaizumi thinks is supposed to be an enticing, come-hither look, but instead just looks like Kyoutani is thinking about when best to stab Iwaizumi when no one’s looking.

Unfortunately, the team notices it too.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa exchange skeptically worried looks between one another, wondering when they’re going to have to stop a fight when one inevitably breaks out, because Kyoutani looks like Iwaizumi just committed some great offence towards him, like sleeping with his mother or something as equally appalling.

Iwaizumi tries not to look smug with the knowledge that one else knows—what’s _really_ going on. He would look suspicious—there’s no doubt—and Iwaizumi’s not a fan of prying questions directed towards him, and he imagines Kyoutani wouldn’t appreciate it either.

Iwaizumi has to resist the urge to snicker because Kyoutani is cute in a ferocious kind of way, and with that, thoughts unbidden tumble in of when Kyoutani isn’t posturing, as open and as honest as he can be when Iwaizumi has him alone and all to himself. Thoughts of Kyoutani on his knees, feral eyes bright, face flushed in anticipation, waiting with baited breath for what Iwaizumi would do next cut like a hot knife through his mind, a familiar heat settling low in his belly.

His eyes can’t help but find Kyoutani’s golden ones, lids heavy, dark eyes smoldering, communicating with a shared look that only lasts two seconds too long, that Iwaizumi is thinking the exact same thing he is—that Kyoutani’s blatant staring hasn’t escaped Iwaizumi and he intends to collect.

Iwaizumi delights in the sharp intake of air Kyoutani takes through his nose when their eyes briefly meet, nostrils flaring, chest hitching, and he turns away quickly from Yahaba who’s watching him warily with a gruff, throaty sound.

“Oi, Yahaba,” Iwaizumi shouts, smirking slightly when Kyoutani jumps at the sound of his voice. “You mind tossing for me? I wanna hit some straights.”

Yahaba looks relieved to be distracted by a task he can fully put his concentration into, and he says something about getting a quick sip from his water bottle before joining Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi nods his head absentmindedly, not really listening, taking the chance to sneak a peek at Kyoutani again, who’s slouched, resting against the far wall with a white towel draped over his head and his knee defiantly up.

Their eyes meet like a clash of sparking swords. Those dirtied golden irises dilate, narrowing on Iwaizumi with an intensity that would make any other person cower or look away, but Iwaizumi only finds himself charmingly amused.

Kyoutani knows Iwaizumi enjoys breaking down his walls, challenging the younger teen on what he thinks he should be, and how he thinks he should act. He allows Kyoutani to be something else when he’s with Iwaizumi, judgement free.

Iwaizumi has sort of become obsessed with the task of unraveling Kyoutani, like he’s some sort of perverse birthday present.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Iwaizumi bites at his bottom lip, running the skin between his teeth in a rough drag, because he wants and it sucks that he has to wait. Iwaizumi considers himself a fairly patient man when he needs to be, but Kyoutani tests his patience in a way that has never been this difficult to maintain before.

Every day, Iwaizumi has to exercise a certain amount of power from not touching Kyoutani in the ways that he wants too, or saying things that would clue in the others and give their secret away. The secret nature of their relationship is part of the allure too, Iwaizumi notes. Each time they’re alone, there is a desperate urgency to their touches, like it’s possible that it could be the very last time.

It turns Iwaizumi on for some reason or another—that desperation. He hasn’t looked into the psychology of it, doesn’t really ever plan to by this point. Iwaizumi doesn’t like to dwell on thoughts of it because he knows that what they have really isn’t a thinking thing, so there’s no point.

But there’s one thing Iwaizumi knows for sure: he craves it—what he does to Kyoutani and in return, what they younger teen does to him.

Should he? Is it smart? Is it completely rational?

Iwaizumi shrugs the thoughts away, saving the concerns for another day. He’s not the type to linger over thoughts and let them weigh him down.

He claps Yahaba on the back as thanks when his underclassman finally joins him, wincing in apology when he hits too hard and Yahaba starts coughing up his right lung. Iwaizumi starts rubbing over his back in soothing circles, helping him through it, muttering quiet apologizes.

Iwaizumi gives one last deliberate look to Kyoutani before he starts jumping and hitting, dark eyes telling Kyoutani that this isn’t not over, not by a long shot.

Kyoutani meets his eyes, determined, waiting for when Iwaizumi can fulfill that promise, banking on it.

If Iwaizumi hits the volleyballs with more force than strictly necessary, Yahaba doesn’t comment on it.

* * *

 

The Iwaizumi household is used to guests, so it’s not strange when Iwaizumi brings Kyoutani around.

Iwaizumi shouts over the noise of the TV where his mother is watching either those sappy dramas or trashy reality shows. She greets him back, content to stay in the living room as Kyoutani and Iwaizumi walk up the stairs towards his bedroom.

Kyoutani follows behind, tense, but not the kind of tense like when they first started doing this and he was sure they were going to get caught.

The tense line of his shoulders now is a cause for something different.

Iwaizumi can read Kyoutani as easily as he could his favorite children’s book as kid. It’s the anticipation of what Iwaizumi plans to do to him after that door is closed that makes Kyoutani an uptight mess. He’s trying so hard not to burst at the seams, the waiting and Iwaizumi’s teasing having made him restless. Iwaizumi knows how hard it is for Kyoutani not to attack Iwaizumi right here on the stairwell, not to demand his mouth or his hands on his body.

Iwaizumi fills with a kind of possessive, prideful heat that burns him right down to his bones at the knowledge that Kyoutani won’t do any of these things because he knows better—knows there’s consequences for each of his actions.

Iwaizumi laughs softly, unable to help himself when he looks back out of the corner of his eye at Kyoutani, fondly amused and incredibly pleased by his restraint.

Kyoutani glares at him before huffing, petulant, gaze shifting sideways as a blush floods over the bridge of his nose and his cheeks.

“What?” He bites out, gruff but quiet.

Iwaizumi just grins, shaking his head as he turns back around. “Nothing.”

He opens his bedroom door and gestures for Kyoutani to step inside with a cool jerk of his chin. Kyoutani watches him, looking like he’s about to defy the unspoken order simply because he can, but finally relents after a prolonged look and a challenging arch of Iwaizumi’s brow.

Iwaizumi follows him closely, sees how Kyoutani shivers when he closes the door with a soft click, resting his back against it with a relieved breath.

 _Finally_.

Iwaizumi’s eyes shut closed, allowing the teen a moment to gather himself like he always does, steadying his thoughts and what he needs to be for Kyoutani’s pleasure. Iwaizumi opens his eyes slowly, the fire in them burning low, but still incredibly hot as he regards Kyoutani standing in the middle of his bedroom stock still, trying not to fidget like he so desperately wants too.

“You know what to say when you’re not comfortable or when I go too far, yeah? You know that for any reason—any reason at all—you’re allowed to say it, right?” Iwaizumi asks, humming to himself, pleased, when Kyoutani nods his head.

Iwaizumi sees him gulp, fists clenched at his sides looking more ready for a fight than anything else. Iwaizumi knows he can’t help it—knows that Kyoutani craves this almost as much as he does because Kyoutani knows he can be vulnerable with him and still remain intact. Iwaizumi would never do anything to break that trust and Kyoutani knows it, is appreciative and thankful despite the fact he’s never actually said it, and so is Iwaizumi for the chance to see Kyoutani in such a light.

“Alrighty then,” Iwaizumi says, the words final, stalking towards Kyoutani in a slow, purposeful stride. He comes to stand right in front of Kyoutani, reminded that they’re exactly the same height, and wonders absentmindedly how much more growing Kyoutani’s going to go through in another year when he’s gone.

Iwaizumi brushes off the sobering thought as he steps to the side and turns on his sound system.

He hears Kyoutani take a deep breath. Smiles.

“You’re eager today, that’s good,” Iwaizumi begins, loud enough for the younger teen to hear over the music. He settles the dial on a comfortable volume. Not too loud that it’s suspicious, but loud enough to drown out the sound of what’s going to be Iwaizumi’s hands striking skin…among other things.

“It’s cute.” He finishes quietly, mischievous gleam glinting in his dark eyes.

Kyoutani bristles at that. He makes a half stunted sound and shifts his feet angrily along the floor, but Kyoutani doesn’t tell Iwaizumi to shut up.

Iwaizumi turns around and crowds Kyoutani until they’re walking back, Kyoutani’s eyes flickering behind him every so often to make sure he’s not going to trip over something and go sprawling all over Iwaizumi’s floor.

Kyoutani’s back hits the wall with a soft thump, and Iwaizumi’s hands move up to bracket his sides, caging him in, eyes narrowed and impossibly heavy where they weigh against Kyoutani. The only warning Iwaizumi gives before he kisses him is the quick glance towards Kyoutani’s lips and then he’s on him, bruising his mouth with his own eager impetuousness. Kyoutani meets Iwaizumi’s punishing force and gives it back just as good, challenging Iwaizumi as the older teen’s neck strains, trying not to arch his neck back from the force of Kyoutani’s kiss.

Iwaizumi growls at the insubordination despite the fires that it ignites deep in his gut. He circles his calloused fingers around Kyoutani’s neck slowly, giving the tendons and bone underneath a good, hearty squeeze before he shoves Kyoutani back against the wall with a rough push. Kyoutani bares his teeth, snarling and Iwaizumi bares his canines too, getting in Kyoutani’s face, making his power over him known.

“We’re gonna try that again,” Iwaizumi says, voice like low rumbling thunder on a rainy day—a warning—and the only one he’ll get. He feels Kyoutani violently shiver, breath coming heavy as he nods his head.

Iwaizumi regards him for a moment more before he dives back in, lips tingling when Kyoutani’s lips part and do nothing else. Iwaizumi groans into the kiss, pleased, thrusting his tongue into Kyoutani’s mouth and rubbing it enticingly along Kyoutani’s own.

They kiss for what feels like hours. Iwaizumi’s lips are chapped by the time he pulls away, panting, face flushed, cock harder than it has been in a long time.

He bites at his lip like a man starved when he sees Kyoutani looking about as wrecked as he feels. The bulge in his tracksuit is as drawling to the eye as an ice cream cone on a hot summer day and Iwaizumi _wants_. He wants more than he knows how to deal with.

Iwaizumi’s hand on his throat relaxes and drifts up to the edge of Kyoutani’s buzzed hair line, the hair there is soft and addicting to smooth over, the texture like newly cut grass. He drags the blunt of his nails over Kyoutani’s scalp in a callous caress, and Iwaizumi grins something wild when Kyoutani makes a stunted, pained sound, eyelashes fluttering, pupils dilating to a small pin-prick.

“What do you need from me?” Iwaizumi asks, not expecting an answer. It’s rhetorical—he already knows what Kyoutani needs from him.

It never hurts to ask anyways, especially when Kyoutani turns the most brilliant shade of bright red and his breath comes faint, transforming right before his very eyes when Iwaizumi does ask.

Iwaizumi bites at Kyoutani’s bottom lip, tugging with a low growl, before sucking the plump skin into his mouth. His irises burn holes into Kyoutani, feeling his jaw go limp with a throaty groan.

Iwaizumi is slowly breaking down his walls, getting to the core of who Kyoutani is, and Iwaizumi finds himself incredibly eager for it like always.

“Do you need my hands on you?” Iwaizumi starts hotly, his hands finding Kyoutani’s hips and brushing over the bony protrusions, smoothing up and down in a maddening caress. “Do you need it rough? Need me to hurt you a little bit?”

Kyoutani jolts, rocking his hips, thrusting up into nothing but open air.

“Fuck,” He moans, almost pained, head thumping back against the wall as his hips thrust out blindly, desperate for any kind of friction.

Iwaizumi curses under his breath because Kyoutani is on the verge of losing himself and the lowering of his defenses never fails to make Iwaizumi almost lose his. There’s something so erotic about Kyoutani like this, something that beckons Iwaizumi’s most primal urges and wants, and it takes effort not to throw his plans by the waist-side and do solely want his cock wants him to do.

Attacking Kyoutani’s neck, Iwaizumi alternates between bites, licks, and open mouth kisses, trying to suck proof of their time together onto Kyoutani’s skin. Iwaizumi is possessive. It’s something he’s newly learned about himself during this whole bizarre experience. He’s just as much of a “mad dog” as Kyoutani is, just better able to hide it he supposes.

“Tell me you need my hands on you,” Iwaizumi breathes out, the faintest edge tinting his voice that expects to be followed. He feels Kyoutani’s swallow on his lips, the shaky bob of his adam’s apple, and hears how his breath hitches knowingly.

“I need _nothing_ ,” Kyoutani grits out after a moment, defiant until the very end, until he can’t hide the desperation and urgency that sings throughout his body and begs to be taken. Iwaizumi grins razor sharp against the jut of his jaw, always thrilled by how they play this game and how he knows it’s a game he’ll always win in the end.

Try as he might, Kyoutani can’t hold out forever, but it’s fun when he tries.

In a blur of movement, Iwaizumi turns Kyoutani around and pushes him harshly against the wall. His hand cradles the curve of his skull, pushing until Kyoutani’s cheek is pressed flat against the wall in a pin the other teen doesn’t try to break out of. Iwaizumi leans into him, a predator’s movement, slow and deliberately purposeful, and nips at the lobe of his ear, digging his teeth in and is rewarded with a whine that has Iwaizumi’s cock positively aching.

“You need nothing?” Iwaizumi repeats Kyoutani’s words, skeptically amused. He rubs the proof of his desire boldly over Kyoutani’s ass, chuckling when Kyoutani bites back a groan and angles his body back for more. Iwaizumi keeps him pinned, knowing Kyoutani likes it while denying him all the same. It’s torture for Iwaizumi too, but he can handle it…if only for a little bit longer.

“I call bullshit,” Iwaizumi begins roughly, breath hot against Kyoutani’s cheek. “How about you be a good boy and try that again? Tell me what you need?”

Kyoutani pulls in a staggering breath, lips parting around it as he bites at his bottom lip, almost tearing it bloody. Iwaizumi frowns, not liking it when Kyoutani tries to punish or hurt himself because of what he likes or what he craves. He makes a soft disapproving sound in the back of his throat, kissing at the sensitive, tender spot right under Kyoutani’s ear, nudging against him with his nose.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that. Don’t hurt yourself. I told you before, there’s no judgement here. You can tell me anything. I just want to make you feel good.”

Iwaizumi wraps loose arms around him, giving Kyoutani as much time as he needs to get his thoughts together. His front settles along Kyoutani’s back and Iwaizumi closes his eyes as the lulling rhythm of Kyoutani’s heartbeat eases Iwaizumi into a calm trance.

He thinks about the start. How back in the day, they mostly fooled around with just their pants on, getting each other off by grinding one another into the floor. The routine changed the day Iwaizumi found himself restless, eager to see through Kyoutani’s brutish exterior and see what really resided underneath all the glares and scowls and the bared teeth. It wasn’t the first time Iwaizumi had ever touched another person’s dick, but god did it fill him with unfamiliar surge of power when Kyoutani whimpered and bucked into his touch, leaking all over Iwaizumi’s loose fist, and clawing at the floor.

Iwaizumi couldn’t help it then—couldn’t help but order Kyoutani not to come until he said so, surprised at the explosive reaction such a simple command received in return, and how much he liked spurring those reactions out of Kyoutani until Iwaizumi found himself addicted to it.

Iwaizumi jolts, eyes opening, putting him back into the present when he feels Kyoutani move, slight but noticeable.

“ _Hit me_ ,” Kyoutani begins, like it physically hurts him to get the words out.

“Need you to…hit me,” Kyoutani says again after long moment, his voice thin, and it’s the weakest Iwaizumi’s ever heard him. Iwaizumi doesn’t know where the patience comes from, but he’s thankful he has it. He wants Kyoutani so much.

Iwaizumi nods his head, closing his eyes as his lips brush Kyoutani’s ear in a soft caress.

“Thank you.”

Kyoutani grunts, “Just do it.”

Iwaizumi wastes no more time. He hauls Kyoutani by the back of his neck towards his mostly empty desk and shoves him towards it, telling him in short words to keep his hands on the polished wood or else he gets nothing.

Kyoutani nods his hanging head, eager as his hands clench into fists on the desk.

Iwaizumi’s eyes drink him in, almost disbelieving that he’s trusted and wanted by such a person—grateful that Kyoutani choose him. An ugly, inky feeling passes over Iwaizumi thinking about Kyoutani doing this with someone else, surprising Iwaizumi with how much he hates the idea of it.

He clears the negativity from his mind with an absentminded shake of his head. That has no room here.

Fingers hooking under the elastic waistband of Kyoutani’s track pants and underwear, Iwaizumi easily slips the clothing off his hips and over the curve of his ass, allowing gravity to take them the rest of the way down. Iwaizumi’s hand smooths over Kyoutani’s tailbone, basking in the feel of warm skin as his hand rucks up Kyoutani’s shirt until it’s under his armpits. Kyoutani’s spine curves and bends alluringly under Iwaizumi’s touch, the older teen’s fingers tracing each bony vertebra, awed by honey tanned skin and various sun spots appearing like rising stars in a newly night sky.

Kyoutani shutters, his whole body disturbing the pens and various office supplies on his desk as he spreads his legs wide, waiting. Iwaizumi bites his lip, trying to contain himself from just taking.

The first hit to Kyoutani’s back side makes both of them flinch. The sting of Iwaizumi hand is rewarding as much as it is grounding and he does it again.

Iwaizumi grabs a handful of Kyoutani’s perk ass and roughly jiggles it in the grip of his hand before laying another one out where the imprint of his palm begins to flare red, blood rushing to the skin. Kyoutani growls, arching into it, loving it by how his dick jumps and twitches between his open legs.

Iwaizumi feels too hot all of a sudden, like his skin is going to catch fire at any moment. He’s never seen something so sexy, so unashamedly carnal, and it eats at him.

Iwaizumi lays into Kyoutani again, hitting as hard as he can, almost punishing. Iwaizumi watches with keen eyes how after the first ten Kyoutani’s mouth starts to lull open, breath coming in staggered gasps, groans mixing in when Iwaizumi hits a particular sensitive place, like his thighs or near the cleft of his ass.

“What do you say,” Iwaizumi begins, voice rumbling from deep within his chest, “when I give you what you want?”

Kyoutani groans, loud and utterly wrecked as his forehead hits the desk with a thump. Iwaizumi slaps him on the inside of his thigh, intentionally brushing his fingers against his balls as he pulls his hand away.

Kyoutani goes rigid before his body undulates in the most visually pleasing roll Iwaizumi’s ever seen.

“ _Oh fuck_ —”

Iwaizumi grins, chucking fondly as he shakes his head.

He hums, considering, “Nope, it’s not that.”

Kyoutani angles his head and throws a frustrated look over his shoulder at Iwaizumi’s teasing.  The glare however only achieves the opposite effect of its purpose.

To Iwaizumi, Kyoutani just looks incredibly needy. His eyes are too bright, his breath is too thin, and the entirety of his skin is an attractive flush that Iwaizumi wants to trace over with the blunt of his tongue. He’d do it for _hours_ if Kyoutani would allow it.

Licking his lips in a slow pass, Iwaizumi’s finger flirts at the dip of his crack, egging Kyoutani on. He gives Kyoutani an encouraging slap on his ass, absolutely loving the sound his hand makes whenever their skin connects.

“C’mon, what do you say?”

Kyoutani grits his teeth, arching back into the touch, “ _More_.”

Brow quirking at the continued defiance, Iwaizumi’s thump replaces his finger as he screws into Kyoutani’s asshole, his nail lightly catching the rim as he teases the flare of puckered skin.

The very blood in his veins threatens to sear when Kyoutani whines a wrecked thing of a sound and pushes back against it, trying to get Iwaizumi’s thumb to press in deeper. It’s extremely tempting to allow for Kyoutani to do such a thing, but Iwaizumi’s determined. He’s not going to be swayed so easily.

Iwaizumi clicks his teeth, putting a false tint of irritation into his tone.

“Nah, that ain’t it,” He says, running his nails over the abused flesh of Kyoutani’s ass, knowing Kyoutani likes it when it stings.

“If I have to ask you one more time, I swear I’ll send you packing without anything, and you can beat off alone in your room tonight for all I care.” His nails dig in harshly, promising blood. “ _Say it_.” Iwaizumi hisses.

Kyoutani makes a pained, aroused sound at that, looking as close to dismayed as a guy like him can get. He lowers his forehead to the desk, palms flat, taking a moment to gather himself as his breath comes heavy and slow. Iwaizumi waits patiently, stroking over flesh, adoring it.

When Kyoutani finally says those words, Iwaizumi has to grab at himself in fear of coming untouched.

This, right here is why Iwaizumi does this—why he craves Kyoutani’s submission so much. There’s a mental release there that’s just as euphoric as the physical—that’s just as rewarding and intimate, and nothing beats that feeling, that trust.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Kyoutani says, complete surrender in those two words, and it sounds like both a blessing and a curse.

And it’s then that Iwaizumi realizes, despite their positions, he’s the one that’s truly, utterly fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if you were hoping for some hardcore boning, i just didn't have the energy to write a full smut scene. maybe next time.


End file.
